


An Awful Hole

by MDJensen



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Christmas, Couch Cuddles, Gen, Grief/Mourning, It's a Wonderful Life, Movie Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 20:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17148209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MDJensen/pseuds/MDJensen
Summary: Steve's never seenIt's a Wonderful Life, so he and Danny have a movie night. Set vaguely post 9x10/9x11.





	An Awful Hole

“Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?”—Clarence, _It’s a Wonderful Life_

*

It’s not the first time, in nearly a decade of partnership, that it’s happened: that indignant disbelief— _you’ve seriously never seen it before_?—has turned into an emergency movie night. Steve had never seen _The Godfather_ , for chrissake. And okay, fine, Danny didn’t happen to see _The Goonies_ until probably like 2013 or 2014; so sue him. He can’t even remember, at this point, which one of them hadn’t seen _Independence Day_. So there’s precedent, for what should be done, when it comes up in conversation that Steve’s never seen _It’s a Wonderful Life_.

Precedent for which Danny is unutterably grateful. Steve’s playing this latest trauma even cooler than usual, and even though Danny pretty strongly suspects that all the guy wants is a six pack and a shoulder to cry on, he refuses to admit it. Or at least to act on it. So it’s perfect, honestly, the opportunity he gives Danny to make two dozen cookies and a pitcher of strong rum punch and have him over to watch the sappy old film.

Steve’s right on time, takeout in hand. They settle in like they’ve done this a hundred times because, let’s face it, they have. Danny starts up the movie and Steve dishes out the food.

Steve does a pretty good job paying attention, which Danny had worried about; it’s an old movie, and maybe slightly hokey, but it means enough to him from watching it as a child that he might have been slightly hurt if Steve had dismissed it altogether.

He doesn’t. He keeps a straight face through the angels talking, chuckles a little at the big bottle succinctly labeled _poison_ , but sobers as it’s clear what’s happening. When George offers to lasso the moon for Mary, he even makes a little _aha_ noise.

“Never actually knew where that was from,” he remarks, and pays even better attention from then on.

They finish dinner and start in on the punch and cookies, mostly silent as the tone of the movie darkens. At some point Steve pulls his legs up beside him, big empathic eyes locked fretfully on the screen.

At last Clarence appears. People tend to talk about the movie like this part lasts the whole time, but it’s only the last half hour or so that George Bailey sees the world as it would be, if he’d never been born. Which is just enough time, in Danny’s opinion. The whole concept wouldn’t work if you, as the audience, hadn’t come to care about George beforehand.

Danny laughs a little at Clarence’s first scene because, c’mon, you’re allowed to. You’re supposed to. And if he doesn’t laugh he’ll think about how very Steve-like it is of George, postponing his own suicide to save somebody else’s life. Yeah, no, definitely don’t want to think about that. Danny shuts down that train of thought very fucking promptly.

It’s a couple of minutes later that he finally thinks to check on Steve himself, since he hasn’t in a while. See if he’s still into it, and all. So Danny glances sideways—to find Steve hugging himself a little, watching the movie with absolutely gigantic tears rolling slowly down his cheeks.

Danny’s stomach pinches in on itself, and he pokes Steve’s knee with his toes. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You, um. You touched, or’re you actually sad?”

“Um.” Steve gives a thick, slimy swallow. “Actually sad, I think.”

“You want me to turn it off?”

Steve snorts quietly. “I’m not sad about the movie, Danno. It just—brought it out, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Danny murmurs. And then there’s nothing else to do but tug Steve sideways, until he curls up with his head on Danny’s shoulder, weight against Danny’s side.

They watch this way for a few more minutes. Steve is silent, but Danny can feel overwarm tears plopping steadily onto his chest. Little by little he hugs Steve tighter.

At last the credits roll. Steve shifts, burying his face in Danny’s shoulder and sniffling, finally allowing himself to make a little noise. Danny finds the remote, clicks the TV off.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asks, finally.

“Not really.”

“Did you like it, at least?”

Steve laughs, the sound muffled against Danny’s neck. “I was being serious, man. It’s not the movie that got to me.”

And Danny finds that a little hard to believe, since the main character is a guy who sacrifices his whole life for others and gets mostly shit in return. But he stays quiet on the issue. Scratches lightly at Steve’s scalp while he ponders what to say next, settling eventually on the old standby.

“How can I help?”

Steve sniffles, swallows, and coughs, just a little. “Stop worrying.”

“No can do, babe.”

“Danny, I’m—I’m literally fine.”

“How. Can. I. Help?”

This gets him a sigh, but not an unhappy one. “Don’t move for a while.”

“Don’t move?”

“I’m really comfortable,” Steve murmurs, snuggling closer. “And I could just—I just wouldn’t mind—staying like this. For a while.”

Danny can’t help but smile. “You got it, babe.”

Satisfied, Steve wriggles again, until his head is smack against Danny’s sternum, one arm tucked around Danny’s waist. “I did like the movie,” he mumbles, sounding more than a little bit drowsy. “An’ I like that you’ve, like, made it your responsibility. To make sure I’ve seen all the important movies.”

He hasn’t stopped smiling, but now it shifts to a smirk. “My main responsibility.”

“You take it pretty seriously.”

“I do take it seriously. It’s part of looking out for you.”

“You always look out for me,” Steve agrees, reaching up to scrub at his eyes. “Better than a guardian angel, honestly.”

“God,” Danny breathes. “Imagine having to save your sorry ass to earn my wings. I’d never make it.”

“Seriously? You’d’ve earned ‘em, like, a thousand times by now, buddy.”

“Yeah, you know what? I take it back. I’d’ve earned them a thousand times our first year.”

For a minute or two, Steve’s only reply is to hug a little tighter; with one hand he worries the hem of Danny’s sleeve. “Thinkin’ about Joe,” he says, finally, then laughs. “Man, nothin’ _doesn’t_ make me think of him, these past few weeks.”

“Steve, that’s totally normal.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t. It just—it hurts. You know?”

“Yeah. Of course it does, babe.”

“He wasn’t a perfect man. Hell, there were times I honestly—honestly wasn’t even sure he was a good one. But he saved—Jesus, Danny, I dunno how many lives he saved. Couldn’t even start to count. And I’d be on that list a dozen times.”

Danny feels the hitch in Steve’s lungs as new tears start coming; he brings a hand up to cup Steve’s head, to hold it securely between his own chin and chest. It’s not quite silent, this time around.

“Then, all else aside?” Danny murmurs. “I’m grateful to him. Grateful for him.”

Steve just nods, maybe a little bit beyond words.

“Okay. You wanna watch something else? Like, somethin’ goofy or somethin’?”

“No, I— I think I wanna.” Steve sniffles. “Wanna, like. Sit with this a while?”

“Okay. Sure thing, babe.”

“Thanks,” Steve whispers; then he turns his face back against Danny’s chest and cries.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, I actually had posted a post-9x10 story shortly after the episode aired. I took it down after a day or two because I reread it a couple times and in the end just found it too out of character. I'm working on another (hopefully better) one set immediately after 9x10, but in the meantime, I hope you all enjoy this sort of combo post-ep/Christmas story!


End file.
